Little Book of Drabbles
by peacefulroar
Summary: Exactly what it says on the cover ;) Pairings so far: Ambrollins (1,3&4), Rolleigns (2).
1. Chapter 1

_**Notes:**_ _Ship: Ambrollins. Inspired by "Follow you" by Bring Me The Horizon. Enjoy!_

* * *

For months now, the future had been the past. Unable to reclaim his title, Seth Rollins finally lost the last thing that he had banked on – the support of the authority. Tired of "The useless Ex-Champ", as he was known now, they had booked him in what would in all likelihood be his last match. Lose and he'd have to leave WWE behind forever. Against Triple H, of course. Could the odds be any worse? But what was there to be done, except go down fighting?

He can't get the strings of his wristbands to hold tight and so he ties and unties them over and over again, until a shadow falls on him. He looks up, and familiar blue eyes stared back at him. Wordless, Dean takes hold of the strings and ties them perfectly. "Nice choice, the white outfit. Very martyr." There is no venom in his voice, only faint, tired amusement.

"If you came to gloat, you're doing it wrong" Seth whispers. "Why would I gloat?" Dean asks with infuriating innocence. Seth rolls his eyes. "You got your championship, and you're almost rid of me. And why else would you come? Fucking me in the time until the match starts would be ambitious, even for you." Dean grins, and shrugs, but doesn't answer.

"You know they won't play fair?" he asks instead. "Probably," Seth admits. "Not that I can do much about it." "No Plan B?" Seth shakes his head. Who should he ask, after all?

"But you know where you are going if you lose, right?" Seth nods. There are options. Just nothing like this. Ever. "So, tell me?" "Why?" "Because I want to know where I'll toss my championship into a trash can."

Seth waits for the words to make sense, but they just don't. "I'll be here and catch anyone who tries to get to the ring from this side," Dean informs him. "Ro is doing the same at the other entrance. Rest is up to you. You can do it. But if not… well, I always really wanted to throw away a championship belt." He grins broadly, and Seth feels warm hands on his shoulders, stroking away the wet strands of hair. "And I can't beat you up, or gloat, or fuck you in the store rooms if we are not in the same company," he adds softly.

Seth can't stand his gaze, looks down. Dean is actually wearing the stupid belt. "I betrayed you," he says hoarsely. "I put your head through cinderblocks. Why…" Dean puts his hands under Seth's chin, tilts his head back up, meets his eyes. "If you don't know that by now, it won't help if I spell it out." The kiss on Seth's lips is so soft that it seems not quite real. "Good luck," Dean whispers, and then he is gone, hidden somewhere in the curtains, ready to strike. "Thank you," Seth whispers back. His music hits. Showtime.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Notes:**_ _Ship: Rolleigns. Originally written for the WWE Drabble Tree, initiated by eric_idle_rules on AO3._

* * *

Watching Roman enter Levi's Stadium is wonderful and horrible at the same time for Seth. Roman's music sends shivers down his spine. It's always hard not to look at him, but tonight it seems that Roman shines even brighter, determination on his features, defying the boos from the crowd. Roman knows he'll lose, of course. To him. The fireworks in the arena mirror Seth's feelings.

Afterwards, Seth is finally alone with the title shimmering, dazzling beside him. What he always wanted. Though maybe not quite like that. Careful what you wish for, people say.

Only when he hears the click of the closing door he is torn from his thoughts and there is Roman, bare-chested, eyes red. For a split second Seth wonders if he's going to be yelled at or punched. He feels like he deserves it. But of course, this is Roman. Before Seth can get a word out, he is pulled into a tight hug. He closes his eyes and inhales the familiar scent. "Well done," he hears Roman say. "You deserve it."

"I'm sorry." Seth whispers. "It was yours." Roman lets go and instead puts his hands on both sides of Seth's face, looking him square in the eyes. "Never apologize." Before Seth's mouth can get any drier or his heart beat any faster, Roman looks away from him and towards the title on the table. "I'll have that beauty one day. Believe that." He grins and puts it on Seth's shoulder, leaving his hand just a little longer on the title.

"I need to get back, but I really wanted to see you" he says, more matter-of-factly. "I'm glad you did." Seth whispers. "Oh, and one more thing," Roman frowns, "You might be in hot water with management. The microphones picked up when you said "Thank you so much" out there.

"Could be worse." Seth says, meeting Roman's eyes again. "Could've said "I love you so much." There is a split second of confusion in Roman's eyes, but then he breaks into a bright smile. "Good one! Mr. McMahon would have a stroke!" Seth smiles in return, and Roman misses the pain in his eyes. A soft kiss is placed on Seth's forehead. "Love you too, little brother. Enjoy the celebrations." And with that, Roman is gone, leaving Seth to stare at the closed door. He should've known, of course. The shiny title on his shoulder suddenly seems oddly dull.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Notes:**_ _Ship: Ambrollins. Originally written for the WWE Drabble Tree, initiated by eric_idle_rules on AO3._

* * *

Seth tries to keep his eyes closed and his mouth shut, his lips pursed. But it's not easy when Dean insists on parting them, running his tongue persistently over the gap. He is not exactly pinning him to the wall of the fancy hotel room, but holding his hips steady all the same.

Seth could shove him away. Or punch him. But he might leave a mark on his face, and how would that look on the photos tomorrow? Instead he has his hands on Dean's shoulders, trying to get more space, failing.

"I need you," Dean whispers. Seth's eyelids twitch, and he breathes "No" in return, but that just allows Dean to deepen the kiss, to flick his tongue enticingly over the inside of his lip, making it all worse, so much worse. Seth tosses his head back against the wall, moving his lips out of reach, but Dean just kisses his throat instead, light, soft fluttering kisses. Seth's hands shift into Dean's hair, meaning to pull him off, but all they do is run through his curls again and again.

"We need to stop," Seth hears himself say. "We ruined enough relationships with this. We need to stop now." The kisses on his throat get rougher, and he feels teeth nicking his skin.  
"Can't do without this." Dean mumbles into Seth's shoulder. "Has nothing to do with…" he can't finish, can't say what it has nothing to do with. Who. Seth pounces as he sees his chance and tries to pour all the ice he can find into his voice. "Yeah? Then why don't we just tell your almost-w…" But that's all he can say because Dean's hand slips from his hip over his abs down inside his pants, finds his achingly hard dick, squeezes. Just the right way, the only way Dean knows how to. Seth's moan is loud and ragged, but he keeps his eyes shut, feels tears welling up.

"Your dick tells me you want this..." Dean's voice is close to his ear, raw, seductive. It takes Seth all his strength to say: "That doesn't change anything." Not this time. This time the decision needs to stay his own. "Okay…" there is just a hint of uncertainty in Dean's voice. "Tell me you don't want it and I'll leave. Just say it." The hand in his pants begins to stroke him, mind-numbingly slow and steady.

"Idonwanthis" Seth breathes, but it's unintelligible, even to himself. "What?" Dean asks, right into his ear again, finishing the word with a small lick over the shell of his ear. "You'll have to say it to my face!"

Seth opens his eyes slowly, tries to breathe normally. His fingers take hold of Dean's hair and he pulls his head back to look into his eyes: He is used to make his muscles do his bidding, in spite of pain, in spite of everything. He tries not to see the dark blue eyes with the fully blown pupils. He tries to see Dean's future. A beautiful wife. Maybe a couple of children. His own family to come home to. Safety. Stability. Finally.

"I. Do. Not. Want. This." He says it slowly and deliberately. He can't believe how sincere his voice sounds.

Dean is out of the room in seconds, and Seth slips down the wall, as exhausted as he has ever felt. "Not because I don't love you, but because I do," Seth whispers to the empty room.

Hours later, when the loneliness of his bed has become unbearable, when he sneaks into Dean's room and slides back into his arms, he wonders if down the line, in the end, it will matter that he had tried. Really, really tried.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Notes:**_ _Ship: Ambrollins. In homage to Subseeker's Breathe (Go read that). Warnings for blood, serious injury, open end._

* * *

When Seth slammed into Roman and sent him into the barricade, his first thought was that he must have messed up – forgot about a suicide dive they had planned while he was brawling on the outside.

But then he saw Seth on the floor, the bloody knife clattering from the wound in his side. A knife meant for him. Time stood still for a moment, and then the blood started pouring from Seth's side.

There was chaos behind him, probably security, but Roman did not care. He rushed to Seth's side, pressed his hands on the wound, but the bleeding would not stop. A hand grabbed his hair like a vice, pulled him down. "Are you okay?" Seth panted over the havoc. "Are you okay?" "Yes, yes, I am," Roman whispered, never relieving the pressure on Seth's side. "Stay calm. You'll be alright."

The grip slackened a little, and Roman saw a soft smile on Seth's lips. He met his eyes, trying to calm him, but Seth's eyes were losing focus. "Ro?" Seth asked softly and Roman had to strain to understand him. "Tell Dean I love him." Roman wanted to reply, but Seth's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his whole body started shaking under Roman's hands.

Roman felt a scream rising in his throat, but then the paramedics pushed him off as if they were trying to break up a pin attempt. Roman sat back against the barricade, pulling at his hair, shivering, watching them work on his baby brother and then wheel him away.

Only later, backstage, when Hunter told him he would take him to the hospital after he had showered, he realized Seth's blood was on his hands, his arms, his face, his hair. If felt wrong to wash it off, but he did it anyway. He pushed his soaked wristguards deep down into his bag. Relics. He could not think about that.

There were screams coming from Dean's room. The whole roster had assembled in front of it, tears in their eyes or on their cheeks. Roman pushed his way through. Inside, every piece of furniture was trashed, glass crunched under his boots.

Dean was on a broken sofa, held down by Kane and Big Show, but he still strained against their grip, twisting his whole body, struggling, screaming. He finally stopped when he saw Roman. "Dean," Roman said quietly and knelt down beside him. Dean's eyes were wide, his breath unnaturally quick, but he was listening to him. "We can go to the hospital to see him, but you need to calm down." Roman was sure Dean had understood him when the other man stilled, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, shuddered.

"You can let go now," he said after a while, his voice dark but firm. Kane let go first, carefully, and Dean flexed his hands, rubbed dried blood from his knuckles. Big Show let go of his feet. Dean sat up. After a moment, he told Roman "Okay, let's go."

Roman nodded thank you at the other two men, who just looked back somberly.

They were silent during when they passed through the throng of their colleagues, and during the car ride, and when the doctors explained where they could wait for Seth to come out of surgery. It seemed like hours later when Dean asked: "What did he say?" Roman didn't understand at first. "I watched backstage," Dean explained. "He asked you if you're okay, I understood that. But what else did he say? After that?" Roman could not find the words. "He said he loved you, right?" Dean asked softly. Roman shook his head. "No, he didn't." "Well, he just saved your life, no need to say it, I guess," Dean whispered. "But he said something, Ro. What was it? I need to know." Roman shook his head and pulled Dean into a tight hug. "He'll tell you himself," he whispered into his brother's hair.

Together, they waited.


End file.
